


Haunting Me

by orangeplaneta



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance, movieverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeplaneta/pseuds/orangeplaneta
Summary: A wedding seemed kind of random, don't you think? Or was it really?A series of drabbles that explore the scenes which Beetlejuice and Lydia shared and what happened in the time gaps, how Beetlejuice's plans shifted, what drove Lydia to write that suicide note and how our lovely couple felt on their wedding day.--I read an amazing post by satsuki-chan (http://satsuki-chan.tumblr.com/post/56380022245/seeing-as-my-last-little-betelgeusexlydia-rant) that explored the theory of why Beetlejuice changed his plans from tricking the Maitlands to marrying Lydia, and I think it fits so perfectly. And I decided to write about it! So the theory is hers and this is just my own take on it.





	1. The Handbook

 

When the green light began to pour over her features through the key hole, Lydia immediately understood that it was not natural and that naturally, she was drawn to it. She ran downstairs and into her Dad’s study. She had to share what she just saw but he grumbled something about relaxing and sent her off to her Delia. He didn’t even flinch when she mentioned that the house could be haunted! For crying out loud, what would it take for her parents to notice anything out of the ordinary?

Armed with curiosity and an old stitch punch, she finally got through the door and found herself upon the threshold of an ordinary looking attic. She flipped the switch next to her on the wall.

The lights went on, and Lydia was left in awe. A toy model of Winter River lay spread out on a big table in front of her. All the tiny houses and buildings seemed to glow from within. Cords of wire dangled from the ceiling above, with their ends drawing closer to the model and illuminating the town. Bigger, more round lights hung higher, giving the whole scene a dreamy and enchanting mood. Lydia couldn’t help but be amazed as she walked along the side of the table. As she looked up, she could see more furniture in the room but most of it had old white sheets covering them to prevent dusting. The table and the model felt the most alive to her. Her eyes landed on a book on top of one of these sheet-clad objects. _Handbook for the Recently Deceased? What kind of title is that_ , thought Lydia. The book itself looked old and boring, like one of those forgotten books on a library shelf. She flipped through it until the leafs landed right on the first page. She began to read. And she couldn’t put the book down for the rest of the day.

Lydia couldn’t help herself. She poured over the text and all that it had to offer her. She didn’t even stop to ask herself if she should take anything in that book seriously. It read like a school text book. As if there had been pre-established facts about the afterlife that she had no idea about and she had only just discovered them. Admittedly, Lydia has always been interested in what happens after people died and this book was satisfying all her curiosities about the dead. Eventually, she snapped out of her reading zone and realized she needed a break.

Having been seated on a stool for several hours, her back ached. It was already dark outside and Lydia was feeling groggy. She untied the string that held her big hat and shook her head in attempt to clear her mind. _Can any of this be seriously true? What if this is just some joke?_ Lydia sighed deeply and headed for the door, book in hand. She turned around for one last look at the model in the soft light, turned off the light switch and closed the attic door with her skeleton key.

* * *

 

It was all going according to plan. Until it wasn’t.

 _Well, not like it’s a bad thing_ , thought Beetlejuice. Sure, he had selected the Maitlands as his newest and dumbest scam victims, and so far, they have been all too desperate to oblige and use his services. But wow, that Adam guy couldn’t even pronounce his fucking name!

_Betelgeise? Seriously?!_

So Beetlejuice decided to pop in on them just at the right time, as they were struggling to keep their attic door from opening and revealing themselves to their new roommates. He turned the TV on and wept up his most ridiculous salesman persona, one that always won the hearts of ditzy little couples like the Maitlands. He did feel like he was going overboard with his act though, and almost struggled to make coherent and convincing phrases towards the end.

 _Chew on a dog?_ Did he sound stupid or what?

Well, apparently not stupid enough! How dare they completely overlook the performance he had to pull off just now?! Beteljuice couldn’t believe they would rather stick to that fucking handbook. They barely even picked it up until those breathers started breaking through their last fortress in the house.

Beetlejuice watched them draw the door on the exposing brick and walk through the green light. Well, it’s not like they’ll be having the time of their afterlives in the Waiting Room. That place annoyed him enough as it is. Let them sit and wait, and try their luck at finding a caseworker that actually gave a rats ass!

He sat on one of the gravestones in the model set and tried to think of his next move. The Maitlands seriously couldn’t be his only way out, could they? Beetlejuice sighed and rubbed the back of his neck when suddenly, he heard the door make a noise. The lock clicked and the door creaked open slowly. A dark figure stepped out into the threshold and the lights above the model went on. Beetlejuice hid behind the gravestone and peered over the edge for a look.

Standing before him was a young, pale-looking girl, dressed in black from head to toe. _Wow, and I thought the Maitlands were a sight to see_ , Beetlejuice snickered to himself. Even her giant hat was black and the entire outfit seemed to hide her completely. She held a camera in her precious little hands. _Hmm, this must be one of the new breathers who just moved in. Definitely doesn’t look like she would hang with the Maitlands._

The girl’s eyes kept exploring the set and the attic. Her lips parted in awe.

 _Wait a minute_ , thought Beetlejuice. Someone was trying to break in here earlier and the Maitlands were desperate to keep them out. Could this little girl be the intruder? And why did she come back? _Curious, ain’tcha? Well, you’ll soon wish your curiosity never got the better of you_. Beetlejuice was feeling particularly angsty over his situation and felt like juicing up the hapless prey.

A grin spread over his face and he rubbed his hands together when suddenly, the girl’s eyes landed somewhere behind him and she stopped in her tracks. She looked more intrigued and moved to the side. _Now what_ , thought Beetlejuice and looked over his shoulders. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The girl was actually holding the Handbook. Literally touching it! How is that even possible? Only the recently deceased and the dead could do that! And she was neither one of those things. Beetlejuice considered her for a moment. _What the fuck is going on?_

* * *

 

 

He watched her flip through the book and begin to read. Her eyes moved feverishly, scanning the words back and forth, flipping page after page, never stopping for a break. It’s like she was trying to breathe in the book all in one go. Beetlejuice leaned against a gravestone and kept watching her, and thinking. How is she able to interact with the book? Is she some sort of witch? A medium? Or physic? She might not look like rest of the breathers, or even the Maitlands for that matter, but… _Nah, she’s definitely alive_ , thought Beetlejuice.

Through all his pondering, he couldn’t help but notice how her distinction from the rest of her kind actually made her somewhat beautiful. Her big and colorless clothes may have hidden her but they gave her a nice silhouette and as she moved, the clothes flowed with her. She looked comfortable in her appearance but not her skin. Her big eyes revealed a natural sense of curiosity and as she read on, he watched them widen and narrow. Her hands held the book ever so preciously, like it was some sort of old artifact. Beetlejuice didn’t even notice that at one point she must have sat down on a stool. The girl would furrow her brows and turn her mouth into a slight smile, or grow more sombre and concentrated, as she got to the heavy stuff in the book. Beetlejuice crossed his arms and couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. _You ain’t seen nothing yet, kid._

Beetlejuice snapped out of his reverie and shook his head. _What the fuck am I doing, drooling over some shrimp? I gotta figure out how to get the hell out of here!_

He looked up and the girl was moving too. She untied the string under her chin and lifted the big hat off her head. Beetlejuice watched her shake her raven locks and let out a deep sigh, as she stretched her back. Suddenly, it clicked.

As the girl got up from the stool, his mind began to race and formulate a new plan. Something about having the handbook right in front of him all day jogged his memory and he recalled that one particular rule about marriage between the living and the dead.

 _Oh. Oh, this is gonna be really good,_ thought Beetlejuice _. Oh, ho ho, I’m back on track, baby!_

It might actually go according to plan after all.


	2. The Attic Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a couple of months since I posted the previous chapter and I thought it was time to pick up the story again lol. This is more of a filler chapter but it's the reason why I started this fic in the first place. I love imagining what happened during the off-screen moments of this movie.  
> Thanks to mordelle for editing and thanks for reading!

Three months.

It had been three months since Lydia saw the faces of the man and woman in the attic window, since she’d heard the TV come on and turn off in that room, since she’s first picked up that handbook.

She never saw the odd couple again nor heard the TV come on. She checked the back of the dusty device and it had been unplugged, though she swore she heard some static and a weird, raspy voice come out of the room that day. The only evidence of the supernatural in that attic was the book. Lydia continued coming up to the attic and devouring the mysterious handbook’s contents. Sometimes, the angsty teen would just hang out up there when her dad and Delia were too much for her. She would take pictures of the cobwebs that hung between the pillars of the roof and of the little houses in the model when night time came.

On the hard days, she would take her walkman and a bunch of cassettes up and sit on one of the old couches, losing herself to the music. She would lie and listen to the drums and guitars, close her eyes and forget the world. Lydia would imagine a world beyond her current existence. She would roam as a ghost in the afterlife, go to the farthest place in the world and float above in the clouds of her imagination.

Miss Shannon’s School for Girls has not been a haven for her from her home life. In fact, it was one of the reasons she seemed to dislike life so much lately. Lydia was the shy new kid and had trouble with her self-confidence, even though she felt perfectly comfortable in her clothes and hair choices. Still, that didn’t stop the bullies picking up those issues and tormenting her. Some days, it felt like the attic was the only place she felt like living in.

* * *

 

Time moved differently for the dead. It was never at a normal pace; it was always either too fast or too slow.

Which seemed to suit Beetlejuice’s afterlife-style just fine. He was a wild ghoul after all, always on the lookout for the next scheme that would get him off. Destruction and trickery were the only solace in his utterly monotonous eternity. But sometimes, this ghost with the most would get a bit too wild, which would get him into trouble with the Neitherworld higher-ups. In fact, he got into trouble so often that those damn bureaucrats had figured out just the right type of punishment for a showman like himself: isolation. In his own fucking grave no less. He would spend years, if not decades or centuries, in his own resting place. Beetlejuice can’t count the number of times he went insane down there and truth to be told, he didn’t want to. He knew how his mind worked, and how it would always bring him back to the schemes. Sometimes, a ghoul just can’t avoid its nature. Beetlejuice was content to let this cycle roll on it own accord.

The plan was to sit out his latest sentence, maybe break out earlier than he usually did, mess with some hapless newbies. That is – until fate had presented him an opportunity on a silver platter.

The ghoul couldn’t get enough of it. How could a solution to all his problems just literally appear in front of his eyes? He didn’t have to trick or hurt or sabotage anyone to get this. And boy did he get it good.

Beetlejuice watched her come up to the attic every day. He didn’t even have to go out and seek her! The girl naturally gravitated to the most haunted place in the house, all on her own. He didn’t have to whisper in her ear, he didn’t have to startle her and make random objects fall on their own in front of her; he didn’t have to drive her mad and corner her with his proposal. No, Beetlejuice didn’t do any of that. He could see on his own that whatever was out there in her world was already making her retreat further and further inward.

* * *

 

Time moved differently for the dead, and it was currently on the slow end for Beetlejuice. But that didn’t seem to bother him as much this time around. He spent his time leaning back in his old armchair, kicking back his feet up in the air and dragging out every smoke in his cigarette. Eventually, the girl known as Lydia Deetz would come into his view. He watched her read the handbook, take out papers and scribble on them, and gradually move her gaze to that brick wall, the one which the Maitlands walked through. The poltergeist only noticed that they’d been gone a while when the girl seemed to grow impatient and began to face away from the wall. Which was perfect for him, he realized. The more impatient she became, the more desperate she’d be when he would confront her. He continued observing her, lost in thought about his scheme and mostly, he had to admit, in absolute awe of her.

He didn’t know how to feel about that part. Beetlejuice wasn’t typically mushy about the women in his afterlife. He wasn’t one for romances or any kind of relationships that lasted more than a night. The ghost with the most took what he wanted and made sure never to stick around for breakfast. In fact, he preferred in quick and dirty. With the way things were going now, it wasn’t going to be quick at all. Maybe dirty but he was surprised at his restraint thus far. Sometimes, the girl would lie on the couch and place some weird ear contraptions on her head and fall asleep. Beetlejuice would float above her and watch her chest rise and fall, her dress ride up her legs and her toes curl in the chill. He definitely enjoyed the view but something told him that he couldn’t afford to fuck this up. Not something like this, something this good. After centuries of his telltale habits, Beetlejuice had never been this close to freedom, within its glorious reach, and all that stood between that and him was a girl named Lydia Deetz.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction ever! I didn't know I had the capacity of writing in me but being involved in this small fandom has exposed me to so much talent! And it's so inspiring! So thank you to the Beetle Babes for your support! Thank you to my beta mordelle, as well!


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